The Tryout
by Silentspider
Summary: The final test a man must face in order to continue his passion. The test could mean his death, or the begining of his new life.
1. Default Chapter

**The ****Tryout**

A short story by Bobby Manzi

A dark room engulfed the man's eyes from seeing ahead of him. He sat on the floor waiting for his opponet to come forth. A sword layed by his side, his only friend. His other, a 9mm Eagle, rested in it's holster. He thought about who his opponet would be like.  
A true worrior? Or yet, could he be a disgusting display for the human race? Whoever he would be, it was a waste of time. The door in front of him opened, shooting a beam of light onto the man who rested on the floor. He looked up and saw the dark outline of his opponet.  
"I've been waiting for you Max," he said as he grabbed his sword.  
Max stepped forward into the room. The other man held his sword tightly in his hands. His sword was hungry for blood, as was he. He looked at Max, his opponet, and saw no weapon being held.  
"Unarmed? I must say, you're brave to come up to me, demanding a fight with no weapon, what is your objective of doing such a thing?" He asked.  
A smirk grew on Max's face, as if he knew what he was doing.  
"I question you. A man such as yourself should understand me just fine. It is between us, two people, destined to kill eachother. I have come here from the other side of the world to confront you. And I must say, I have seen better. Your stance, the weapon, everything. It's awful. A waste of my time," Max commented on his way out. He turned around with his back to the man, and made his way to the door. A loud thud was heard from Max's left ear once he placed his hand on the door knob. He turned and saw the sword stuck in the door, still swaying from the power of which it was thrown at. Max turned back and looked at his opponet.  
"Persistent you are. I love that. I am the same way. Never giving up. Who ever thought, I would meet someone such as myself. But now you have no weapon," Max noted.  
His opponet reached into his holster, and pulled out his 9mm Eagle, which was then pointed at Max. Max laughed at his actions, so he too pulled out his handgun. Their eyes locked onto eachother's. A single movement of a finger, and one would die instantly. Either they didn't realize that, or they were waiting.  
"Let's play a game," the opponet began to speak.  
"We each will get a revolver. As you know, there are about six chambers. One bullet shall be placed in one of the six chambers. We will each take turns putting the gun to our heads, and pulling the trigger. If you hear a click, you got lucky. If you hear a bang, you have nothing to worry about anymore."  
Max nodded his head in agreement. His opponet gave Max a revolver with only one round within it. Max went first. He put the gun to his head. Fear ran through him, but he knew he had to do it anyway. He pulled the trigger. The only sound made, was a click. His opponet then did the same. He held it up to his head, and showing no sign of fear, pulled the trigger. The only sound made, was a bang. The bullet went through nice and clean, leaving only a clear hole through his head. Blood shot out, and landed onto the walls. Max looked upon him.  
"The only difference between me and you is that I belived I could win. You however saw the chance that you could die," he said.  
Max took clip out, and saw a bullet in all six chambers. The gun was fully loaded.  
"Besides, you cheated."  
Max shook all the bullets out of the chamber onto the ground where they landed in the crimson puddle which was still forming. He left the room, and back into his life, where his next victum, would soon come.


	2. The after math

The cold, foggy, windy streets of London ment one thing to Max. Home. As he cleaned the blood of his hands with a piece of cloth, he thought to himself why he was here,  
and who was the one that made him do these things.  
Killing people was his life, it was all he knew.  
He didn't know how he got into this world, or even when.  
He didn't know his age, but had an idea from his looks.  
Max has been doing the dirty deed for as long as he can remember. A gun being held in his hand felt too friendly to him. And at the same time, too familiar.  
Max wondered if he was assassinating these people under a good cause. He didn't want other people to think of him as a sick person, killing people without an idea of a reason why. He could hear police sirens, wailing in the distance. They echoed louder and louder as they came closer to Max. However they zoomed by him, without a thought in their heads of who, or what Max was.  
An ambulance flew by after them. It too was blazing it's sirens. Max didn't feel guilty for what he did.  
To him, it was apart of his life. Like breathing is to live for some, killing is to live for Max.  
He knew he had to leave soon, or else they might find him. As he walked catiously down the street, a nearby payphone began to ring. Max stared at it, wondering why it would be ringing, and who would be on the other side. He stepped into the phone booth,  
and picked up the phone. Max put it against his ear, and listened. "Hello?" Max asked breaking the silence.  
"You did a good thing, now we need you to do something else for us," a mysterious voice began.  
"Who are you?"  
"That is not important right now, all that matters is what I tell you to do."  
Max listened to what he was being told.  
"Now the police were somehow contacted. Its beyond my knowledge how, but don't stick around there any longer.  
There is an ally down the street from you. In the ally is a milk truck. Knock three times on the back door. I have posted some of our men in it, so they will know if its you or not. Once you have done that you will be home free."  
A click followed by an endless dial tone was all that came next. Max hung up the phone, then started to walk down the street looking for the right ally.  
As he searched, Max saw a milk truck with its engine running in an ally. He walked up behind it, and knocked three times, just like he was told.  
The door slid open, and men wearing black suits came out and pulled him in. The truck began to drive away into the city street. The back of the truck was dark, Max could only see the outline of the men.  
One of them then took a flashlight, and shined it into Max's face.  
"Are you Spider?" They asked.  
The name sounded familiar to him, but Max couldn't find out where he heard it before.  
"Yes," Max said unsure if that was the right answer.  
The flashlight was clicked off.  
Unknown to Max, this would be the ride of his life... 


	3. Them

This car ride could be his last. Max persisted on finding out what was going on, but the men would not give him an answer. As the truck moved along the street,  
Max could feel the bumps it ran over. It was the closest thing to find out where he was.  
"Who am I?" Max asked.  
The man stared at him. So did the others. Nobody moved.  
"Stop the truck," the one man said as he fixed his black tie.  
The back opened, and then they threw Max out onto the street. It sped off before Max had a chance to read the lisence plate. He stood up and saw he was on an old barren bridge. Which would explain the bumps. He looked out into the ocean, but the fog forced Max to only see a couple yards out. He didn't know which way to go, so he made a choice to follow the truck on foot. He thought about what was going on. Things like this have been happening for as long as he can remember. As he walked down the bridge, he felt something square and hard in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a wallet.  
Max hoped it would explain something to him. In the wallet, was a picture of a women. She had black hair,  
with simple blue eyes. A smile which would stay in the back of his head for ever. Max tried to remember her, that's if she was in his memories. However nothing came up. It drew a blank. Max was devestated. He put it back in his pocket and continued walking.  
  
Meanwhile in an airplane flying above the US, two men discussed one man's actions.  
"He is known only by Max," one man said as he showed the other one a simple black and white picture of who he was talking about. The picture showed every single detail, and made the smallest things stand out.  
"What is so important about him?" Asked the other man.  
"He is a known assassin. A killer. From what I hear, he has never lost a client. Who he works for, we don't know. All we know is that he is somewhere in London as we speak."  
"Then, why don't we set up a sting? Who has he killed so far?"  
"Basicaly, just people that the world doesn't even know.  
I'm trying to figure out the pattern, but it gets more random everytime. There have been sightings of him, but I want to find him. Order your men to go back and pick him up again. Don't let them kill him. I want him alive when he is brought to me." 


	4. Planning the guns

The bridge seemed to take longer to cross then Max thought it would. But, just about every bridge in London was, so it was something Max was used to. Even though he stayed in the country for only a couple weeks now, a thing such as this is easy to adapt to. As he swayed his arms while walking, he felt something hard under his jacket. Max took a peek, and saw a Desert Eagle staring back at him from it's holster. Seeing that the bridge was barren, Max took it out, and examined it. The clip contained all twelve rounds in it, reflecting any light shined onto it. Max put it back into it's holster, will it rested. The sound of a car engine was heard in the distace, coming down the bridge towards Max. A black Chrysler pulled up next to Max. Another man wearing a black suit stepped out of the passenger side.  
"Please come with us," he said.  
"No," was the reply.  
The man wearing black took a step towards Max.  
Feeling threatened, Max took out his Desert Eagle, and fired a round into the man's chest. The force of the bullet blew him onto the hood of the car. Two other men then jumpped out of the car. One from the driver's seat,  
and the other from the back seat. Max took them out with a single bullet for each. He pushed the dead body off the hood, then searched their bodies for anything important. With having no luck in finding anything, Max sat into the driver's seat of the car. Seeing the keys in the ingnition, he turned them, granting him the ability to drive.  
  
Meanwhile, in a bunker deep underground, two men try to figure out a way to capture Max.  
"We sent about three men after him, and no response.  
I don't know what we should do."  
"I would go there myself, but I don't feel like going to London at the moment. Hmm, I see that he is very skilled. I can't wait to fight him."  
The other man looked at him with a look of disgust.  
"What the hell are you talking about?"  
"I must fight him. That is what he has been doing all this time. You think that it is all one big assassination, but its not. He goes around the world,  
just to fight people to the death. But not just anybody,  
people trained in the same class as him."  
"And what class is that?"  
The other man looked at him with a small, simple, smirk.  
"Mine."  
  
Back in London, Max found his way back into the city,  
where he tried to find a way out of. He stopped the car,  
and walked into a pawn shop, hoping they would have directions. He waited at the counter, waiting for the owner to appoarch Max. As he stood there, he could hear foot steps behind him. Max took a quick glance into a window, which showed the reflection of a man in black behind him. Max spun around, kicking the man in the face, which sended him into the ground. Max got onto his knees, and grabbed the man by his shirt collar.  
"Who are you?" He asked violently.  
But then, the man broke free from Max's grip, and kicked him in the chest. Max took that as his answer. In a place like this, using his Desert Eagle would be a bad idea, so he kept in holstered. The man came running towards Max in a rage of killing him. He tried to throw a punch, but Max blocked it, and kicked him in the chest in return. He flew into the counter, will he layed hurt. Max went over to him, but saw that he was unconsious. Max didn't know why these people were after him. He just wanted to get out fast.  
"Freeze!" A man yelled from behind.  
Max turned around and saw two cops standing behind eachother in the doorway. One of them stepped towards Max with his gun drawn at him. Max then knocked the gun out of his hand, and fired it at the two cops. They too,  
layed on the ground in a deep crimson puddle. The last thing Max needed, was to be after the country, if he wasn't already. 


End file.
